Hunters Hunted
by fakescorpion
Summary: Part#2, change of scenes in the SPN episode 1x15 The Benders. Murphy MacManus went missing along with Sam Winchester, and it was up to the two elder brothers to save their respective siblings from ending up in a certain family's plate.
1. The Bar Fight

_disclaimer: I don't own SPN__, BDS, or any of their characters._

_Second in the **Chosen by Destiny **series, but can be read __separately_.

_Change of scenes in the SPN episode 1x15 The Benders. Set a few months after BDS1 (with the presupposition that the MacManus twins didn't return to Ireland immediately after the execution of Papa Joe and had in fact decided to take a road trip in the US to evade the authorities and had somehow ended up in Hibbing, Minnesota)._

_Murphy MacManus went missing along with Sam Winchester–both kidnapped from the parking lot outside a bar. And it was up to the two elder brothers to save their respective siblings from ending up in a certain family's plate, but could Dean and Connor work together? Or would they ended up getting in each other's way? Rated T for violence and typical MacManus language._

* * *

_**Hunters Hunted**_

**The Bar Fight (From the Winchesters' POV)**

It all happened a few hours after the interview with the young boy who were said to have heard something when the last victim, Alvin Jenkins, disappeared. But as it turned out, it seemed a rather futile investigation.

And that was why the Winchester brothers ended up here, drinking some cheap beers in a bar named KUGEL'S KEC. Sam pondering over his computer and flipping over Dad's journal at a round table to check whether it was their kind of case or not with Dean trying to entertain himself by shooting some darts, all the while mumbling to themselves trying without luck to figure out any lead.

"I saw a motel about five miles back." Sam suddenly said, closing his computer and giving up on his research.

"What? But the night just started! Let's look around."

"We're here to work, Dean."

"You really know how to have fun, don't you grandma?" Dean turned and stared at his younger brother with a slight scowl but was immediately met with one of those faces. "Oh right." He finally said, turned around and chucked one last dart at the board before giving in.

However, they heard a disturbance to the right then and looked up in time to see a freaking tall and kind-of-muscular guy in leather knocked the glass out of another slightly shorter man's hand.

"Look where you're going!" The tall man laughed.

"I hate that kindda son of a bitch." Dean told Sam under his breath as he eyed the victim that was wearing a black turtleneck and dark overall. Absent-mindedly, he noticed a tattoo of the Virgin Mary on the left side of that man's neck. "Always pick on those who're smaller."

"Chill dude, that's just his luck." Sam didn't even show any sign of noticing as he gathered up his belongings.

Dean was about to make another comment when the commotion started all over again and the elder Winchester immediately turned back to watch.

"Te fuck're ya on?" It seemed the 'victim' had more wits than everyone in the bar expected as he shouted back at the top of his voice with an Irish accent, not-the-least minding the height or built disadvantages.

"What did you just said to me?"

"I'm sayin' that this m'drink ya knocked over an' yer buyin' me another one."

"Oh yeah? Then how 'bout you just back off? Pussy?"

"I'm warnin' ya motherfucker! Another word–_another fuckin' word_–an' I'll be puttin' m'fist up yer arse!"

Dean grinned and tapped Sam's arm lightly. "That guy sure has his style."

"A foul mouth you mean?" Sam asked sarcastically, already prepared to leave only to find his brother caught up in the excitement. "Dea–" He made to catch his brother's attention, but unfortunately the attempt didn't succeed as another Irishman with lighter color hair decided to join in.

"Easy there, s'just a pint of Guinness." The lighter hair held up his hand to separate the two that were snarling at each other's face.

"Ya know how much tha cost?" The darker hair hissed, refusing to back down and still glaring at the culprit who had earlier knocked his alcoholic beverage over.

"You guys so poor can't even buy yourself a drink?"

"Tha–"

"Murphy!" The lighter hair warned, then–putting on a fake polite smile–turned to the tall guy and said, "Why don't ya just buy m'brother a drink an' we call it a day? Nobody wants ta get hurt."

"Look who's talking?" The tall guy shoved the shorter blond Irishman aside and purposely knocked him to the floor. And that's when the darker Irishman snapped and all hell broke loose.

Dean doubled over laughing as the guy named Murphy tackled the taller man to the floor with a bunch of punches and kicks. "That's what I'm talking about, Sammy, that guy has style!"

The younger Winchester just rolled his eyes as the other Irishman joined team with his brother. "Whatever. I'm getting back to the car."

"I'll be out in a minute." Dean said holding his glass up. "After I buy them a drink."

"We're here to work." Sam reminded. Again.

"Yeah, and tell me when you've got any luck."

Sam did another eye roll and made one of his bitch faces. "You're really an ass, you know that?"

"It's called being big brother. Bitch." Dean said and watched merrily as the tall man that's been jumped by the two Irish half limped out the bar, cursing loudly, with a bruise cheek and several broken ribs.

"Jerk." Sam answered over his shoulder almost automatically as he followed out the door.

The air was cool outside.

The parking lot was empty and quiet. The man in leather had already wondered off out of sight.

It made Sam uneasy as he walked briskly past a line of heavy motorcycle and a couple of other cars. Just when he got to the Impala, however, he thought he heard some strange screeching sound that sort of reminded him of fingernails scratching on the wall. He instantly went on alert and carefully placed the papers and his notebook on the hood of the Impala and took out his flashlight. Slowly, he kneeled to check under the car–

And that cat nearly gave him a heart attack when it hissed and ran away.

Inwardly laughing at himself, Sam got up while shaking his head...and that's when a hand landed on his shoulder.

* * *

_The second chapter would be from the MacManus twins' POV._

_Thx for reading, please R&R._


	2. Missing

___disclaimer: I don't own SPN__, BDS, or any of their characters._

_Second chapter up! As promised from the MacManus twins' POV._

* * *

_**Hunters Hunted**_

**Missing (From the MacManuses' POV)**

"Who's te pussy now? Fuckin' retard." Murphy jeered after the tall man as he made his escape, all the while massaging his sore bicep that'd got a nasty scratch mark on.

"How's it feel?" Connor asked inspecting the wound on the younger twin's upper arm while Murphy tried to wave him away.

"Not te worse I've got."

"Tha guy's got awful fingernails; ya should clean it up before gets infected." Connor said taking out the keys from his pocket. "We've got some clean bandages in the back o' te car."

"I'm not gonna die from a few fuckin' scratches."

"Murph."

"Oh, fine." Murphy snatched the keys that were dangling in his face from his grinning twin's fingers. He turned and left the bar before noticing another man coming their way.

Connor did saw that guy though as the man in dusty leather jacket and intensive hazel eyes walked towards him, two glasses of shots in hand.

"On me." The man said as he handed over the drink.

And Connor, being Connor, wasn't one to turn down any free shots so he took it and empty the glass in one go. He didn't notice the man's eyes lingered on the tattoo on his left hand that read _VERITAS_ until he actually made note about it.

"Veritas? That's truth in Latin isn't it?"

"Aye." Connor answered returning the now-empty glass and, with a grin, added, "An' vérité in French, Wahrheit in German, verità in Italian, an' verdad in Spanish."

"Wow, that's pretty impressive. Finding information would be so much easier if I'd known that many languages." The man said in a friendly joking tone as he took back the small glass and placed it on a nearby table. "You've really got to meet my brother, Sam, no offence but he's the geek of the two of us."

"Dun worry, none taken." It didn't take much to know the man had good heart, and this alone was enough to make Connor smile.

"Talking about brothers, I'd like to meet yours and treat him a drink, too." The man continued after emptying his own glass. "Saw him in the fight just now."

"Ya mean m'twin." Connor nodded. "Tha's Murphy. One shot too many's enough fer him ta start causing trouble."

"No, no. It's actually a nice change to see someone took a stand." The man held out a hand which Connor shook good-naturally. "The name's Dean."

"An' I'm Connor."

_XXX_

Murphy wasn't drunk even if his feet were a bit swaying as he walked toward the place where Connor had parked their car. No way he's drunk.

But he admit his brain seemed a little slow as he stared, puzzled.

There was a tall man in coat and jeans kneeling beside and peering under a black antique car that looked just awesome and had probably parked next to their silver automobile after they went into the bar. Was the guy looking for his keys?

And a cat suddenly darted out.

Was the guy looking for his cat? It made little sense and Murphy reached out a hand anyway but–

The man practically jumped at the touch and spun around so fast Murphy didn't have time to react before a flaring flashlight blinded him.

"Jesus!" Murphy squinted and cursed some more in Gaelic Irish while shading his eyes.

The man blinked, once, and immediately switched off his flashlight. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were..." He apologized. "It's just that, I'm not used to be snuck up on."

Murphy tilted his head. Not mad, only startled. "Then 'm sorry myself fer alarming ya." He finally said, holding out a hand to pull the other man up.

"Thanks." The man said, running a hand through his brown hair as he accepted the offer, but narrowed his eyes at the tattooed _AEQUITAS_.

"That's Latin, isn't it?"

"Aye. It means justice." Murphy answered cheerfully.

The man nodded. "I know." He said. "And you've been bashing 'justice' into that man's skull."

This made Murphy laughed. "Oh! Ya've seen!"

"Quite a commotion." The man shrugged. "Got my brother all excited."

Murphy laughed again and patted the man on the shoulder. "Ya guys from here? We should get together sometime." He said. "M'name's Murphy, Murphy MacManus."

"I'm Sam Winchester." The man answered. "But we're from out of town."

"Tha's too bad! Well, Connor an' I weren't from here either. Only stayin' fer a coupl'a days."

"I see."

"Nice meeting ya, Sam." Murphy said, turning away to get the bandages that Connor had been so insistent about. But Sam suddenly made to grab his arm.

Murphy gave a questioning look. "Somethin' wrong?"

Sam frowned and looked at the rosary he had always worn around his neck. "...an amulet that can ward off demons..." The man uttered under his breath and raised his head in surprise. "Are you and your brother hunters?"

This time it was Murphy's turn to frown. He knew he and Connor had been called murderers by some what with all the bad people they had killed though most in South Boston referred to them as the Saints, but hunters? Never.

Sam must had caught the bafflement in his eyes for he let go of his arm right away and stuttered another apology. "I think I've mistaken you for someone else."

Murphy made to reply–

But he never had the chance to get the words out. Something heavy and blunt landed on the back of his head and before he knew it, he was an unconscious pile of flesh and bones lying in the gap between two cars.

_XXX_

Connor grew uneasy as time past with a total of no sign of Murphy's return. Though he'd always been the more patient of the two, the unfamiliar absence was starting to get on his nerves.

"Wha's takin' so long?" Connor muttered anxiously involuntarily turned to look at the door, mind worrying about his twin's well-being.

"Tell you what, Sam's waiting for me outside so I should probably get going." It seemed that Dean had heeded the restlessness in his tone because the man got up then and gestured at the door.

Connor nodded and followed up. "Well, I should be leavin' as well."

"We'll be in town for a few days to run some errands, maybe we could..." Dean started to say as they made across the pavement but trailed off as something caught his eyes.

Connor didn't notice the change in his friend as he scanned the parking lot that was _empty_ of the younger twin. He had to fight with every one of his nerve-endings to not panic on the spot.

"Shit." Dean cursed as he picked up some papers and a notebook from the hood of an antique car.

"Murphy!" Connor shouted, confused and flustered, when he found no one inside the silver automobile. "Murphy! Where te fuck are ya? Murphy! Murph!" He ran across the lot and onto the road, looking left and right but still, saw no sign of the person that shared his blood.

"Calm down, will you?" He didn't realize Dean had followed him onto the road and grabbed his arm.

"Calm down? Dun ya tell me ta fuckin' calm down!" Without meaning to, Connor seized the other man by the collar. "I can't remember when was the last time I leave his shtupid arse alone fer more than a few fuckin' minutes. And yer tellin' me ta fuckin' calm down?"

"Connor!" Dean raised his voice and it was then did Connor realize he wasn't the only one with a missing brother. "We're going to find your brother and we're going to find mine, but you'll be no good if you're going to be freaking all over the place like some chick!"

Connor narrowed his eyes at that.

"And don't worry about Murphy, he'll be fine 's long as he stayed with my brother."

"Wha's tha suppose ta mean?"

"This is what we do." Though Dean didn't elaborate, the elder twin could still feel the depth behind those words. "In the mean time, we'll just have to find them as fast as possible."

"Fine." Connor hissed, pushing away. "An' how're we suppose ta do tha?"

Dean was lost for word for a few second when something caught his attention.

"Wha?" Connor demanded.

"Security camera..." Dean muttered, pointing. "Looks like we've gotta pay a visit to the sheriff's tomorrow. Maybe they'd got something on tape."

Connor looked behind him and saw the camera that's filming on the tip of a pole and realized the man's got a point.

* * *

_That's the end of the second chapter, hope you like it._

_I've always thought Dean would cope better than Connor in this kind of situation. Dean and Sam had went their seperate ways a couple of times in the TV series after all while I couldn't remember once (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong) that Connor and/or Murphy was without each other in the two movies._

_And yeah, I enjoyed the idea that the twins' rosaries were the real deal (even without knowing it)._

_Thx for reading, and please R&R. It would make me very happy!_


	3. Fake IDs

___disclaimer: I don't own SPN__, BDS, or any of their characters._

___And this is the third chapter, still from the MacManus twins' POV so I apologize first to those Winchester fans out there but I promise the next chapter will switch view points._

* * *

**_Hunters Hunted_**

**Fake IDs (From the MacManuses' POV)**

Duffle bag in hand, Connor took off his sunglasses and walked the remaining few blocks from the photo gallery. Soon enough, he saw the conspicuous black antique car from last night parked just across the street from the big sign that read SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT. He went on and rapped on the window.

"Door's unlock." Dean said, motioning at the shotgun-side door.

"So wha's te big plan?" Connor asked, throwing his bag into the car first before following in himself. "We jus' go on ahead an' ask fer information?"

"Well no." Dean raised an eyebrow. "I'll be going in alone."

"Wha?" Connor demanded. "Are ya tellin' me ta wait here? In te car?"

Dean nodded like it was obvious. "I told you before, this is what I do and I'm better off working alone."

"No way!" Connor's voice raised an octave. "This is m'brother we're talkin' about! I'm not gonna jus' wait here in te fuckin' car!"

Dean frowned like he was going to argue but Connor's mind was set. Sighing, the hazel-eyed man finally gave in and held out a hand.

"You brought the photo I'd asked for?"

"Aye." Connor answered, handing over the picture he'd just taken. "Wha're ya gonna do with it?"

Dean didn't answer. Instead, he took out a pair of scissors and went to work. Almost in no time, a black-leather-clad ID was thrust into Connor's hands.

"Wha's this?" The lighter hair twin flipped the thing over and saw his new 'states police identity' staring back at him. "Owen Hackett?" He asked incredulously. "Isn't this forgery?"

"If you're coming, you're playing by my rules."

"What did ya say ya do fer a livin' again?" Connor narrowed his eyes and asked, if nothing else he was starting to get suspicious about this newly made friend.

"I didn't." Was all the answer he got as Dean made to open the door.

_XXX_

"So...what can we do for you, Officer Washington and Officer Hackett?" The sheriff that wore a tag bearing the name 'Kathleen' asked as she returned the fake badges.

"We're working on missing persons." Dean took the lead and started, with an air of one used to fake identities like he'd been doing this kind lying all his life.

"I didn't know that Jenkins' case was been covered by the state police." The oblivious sheriff said.

And that leaded Connor to wonder who this Jenkins was.

"Ah...no, no. It's someone else. Actually it's my cousin and his friend." Dean continued like he knew full well who the sheriff was talking about. "We're having a few last night with my working partner here in a bar down by the highway, haven't seen them since."

"Does your cousin or his friend have a drinking problem?"

"The friend I don't know, but Sam? Two beers and he's doing karaoke." Dean joked but Connor could see almost too plainly the worry that prevented the humor to reach the man's eyes.

"They weren't drunk. At least, one o' them was sober when they left." Connor provided, referring–of course–to the other man's brethren. "They were taken."

"Alright." Kathleen eventually turned around and walked slowly towards a computer. "What're the names?"

Dean started to reply but paused as he turned and asked in an undertone. "Is your brother's name Murrow?"

"Murphy." Connor corrected but immediately held up an arm. "But dun use his name. He kindda has a record."

Dean stared at him like he was debating something in his head. Like he hadn't planned on using his own brother's name. Then–

"Alright." He turned back to the sheriff and took a seat as Connor–who didn't think people would react well to a serial killer's name–secretly let out a sigh of relief. "The name's Winchester. Sam Winchester."

"Like the rifle?"

"Like the rifle." Dean confirmed and flippantly took a peek at the computer screen as the woman typed out his brother's name.

"And the name of the other one?"

"Murphy." Dean said. "But Sammy only introduced him yesterday so we didn't catch his last name."

"Hmm..." Kathleen nodded thoughtfully and checked the computer. "Samuel Winchester." She read out loud. "So you know he's brother Dean Winchester died in St. Louis...that was suspected murder?"

Wait...what? What? Connor gaped as Kathleen, too, looked at Dean expectedly.

"Yeah, that's Dean." Dean said awkwardly, a strangled expression on his face like he's begging Connor not to blow his cover. "Kindda the black sheep of the family."

Connor was still staring but didn't say anything. He's going to hammer the guy for answers if chance arouse.

"Handsome though." Dean lightly added in an after thought. Which didn't help much other than earning him another look from Kathleen.

Both Connor and Dean returned uneasy smiles.

And Kathleen returned to the computer. "He's not showing up in any Current Field Reports."

"We'd a lead." Connor said. "We saw a surveillance camera by te highway."

"Uh-hum, county traffic cam."

"Right. We're thinking the camera might picked up what took him." Dean took over again. But there's another awkward pause. "Or...whoever."

"Well. I have access to the traffic cam footage down at the county works department...but well," Kathleen stand up and turned around, "we need to see this through the right way." She picked up some papers and a pen. "Can you guys fill out a missing person report?" She asked as she gave the things to Dean. "You could sit over there."

Dean stood up and took the papers. "Officer...um...his family kind of told me to look after the kid. You have to let us go with you."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that."

Upon hearing that, Connor clenched his fist so hard he thought he might bleed.

"Well, tell me somethin'." The elder twin cut in and inquired with a taint of indignant, not at all bothering with hiding the borderline rage in his tone as the other man tried in vain to calm him down. "Ya kindda had yer fair share in te missing persons, did any o' them ever come back?"

Kathleen looked at the floor in strained silence.

"Figures." Connor hissed and tried not to curse. Which he failed.

_XXX_

Murphy woke up with a killer headache that was the combination of a ram in the head and mild hangover. To make the matter worse, he was lying on the dirty floor of a fucking cage.

Looking around from the ground-level view point and hoping to find some water for his dry throat, Murphy noted another two people lying in their respective cages next to his.

"Fuckin' cage." He cursed as he got up and swayed. Without a doubt not finding anything for his throat. "Shtupid fuckin' cage." He cursed again and kicked the iron bars that somehow pissed him off.

The loud noise Murphy made from losing his balance and almost crashed into the cage door was enough to wake one of his inmates up.

It was the Sam from last night.

"Mornin'." Murphy said sarcastically and slurred his words, giving up and decided to remind a heap on the floor.

Sam nodded, getting up and try shaking the bars. But of course to no avail.

"Already tried." Murphy offered.

Sam frowned and looked at the messy state of his friend. "Tough night?"

"Tell me 'bout it." Murphy groaned, massaging his pounding forehead. "Fuckin' hangover."

Somehow, Sam found amusement in his statement for he noticed there was this odd twinkle in those brown eyes.

"Wha?"

"You know there's a really good hangover remedy." Sam began. "It's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray*."

"Fuck ya." Murphy moaned, holding up his middle finger while trying to keep himself from throwing up.

* * *

_*A/N: I know Dean didn't say this infamous line until 2x11 Playthings, but I just loved to see Murphy's reaction to it. So lets just say I changed the timeline slightly and pretended the Sam here had already fallen prey, and he was eagerly looking for its next hangover victim._

_Thx for reading and staying with me, please R&R._


	4. Civilians…Right?

_____disclaimer: I don't own SPN__, BDS, or any of their characters._

_____Fourth chapter up, this time from the Winchester brothers' POV. S______lightly implied twincest in this chapter but only if you squint really really hard and have a wild and out-of-control imagination (which, I gotta say, wasn't really my problem)._

* * *

**_Hunters Hunted_**

**Civilians...Right? (From the Winchesters' POV)**

"So...are ya gonna explain?"

As expected, Dean found a pair of sapphire eyes glaring daggers at him as he fidgeted on the park bench.

"What?" He wanted to play dumb though knowing it wouldn't work. But Christ, what was he supposed to do anyway? It's not like he could start on shapeshifters and wendigos with some civilians!

"Ya know wha." Connor crossed his arms, set on finding some answers. "You being dead an' all."

"Everyone have a right to keep some secrets." Dean tried reasoning. "It's a free country."

"Dun fuck with me." Connor said, not at all convinced. "If ya're some sortta murder suspect, I'm not lettin' ya anywhere near Murphy."

"But to me, you're not being all too truthful yourself, buddy." Dean countered suddenly felt the irony of the other man's tattoo. "Something tells me your brother's record have nothing to do with a few bar fights."

Connor didn't have a say to that, but the hard look was still there.

"It was a mistake, back at St. Louis." Dean eventually yielded and explicated. "I was framed by some serial-killing crackpot that kindda looked like me."

Connor twitched like the comment somehow made him uncomfortable but Dean couldn't begin to understand why. So he ignored it and continued with his flawed tale. Purposely left out just _how_ looked-alike the shapeshifter had been, all the while praying to God the other man would buy the random events that were spilling out of his mouth. "What can I say? All the evidences were against me so I had to get away."

"And ya faked yer death."

"Yeah." Dean said, slightly nervous. But if the guy still refused to buy the story, Dean was determined to knock him out cold 'cause nothing's going to stand between him and finding Sam.

Thankfully, the Irishman uncrossed his arms and the tension immediately subsided. "I'll pretend yer tellin' te truth. Fer now."

And that, Dean was grateful.

Just then, a voice called out from behind.

"Greg! Owen!"

It was Kathleen, the town sheriff who had decided to help them out. And Dean turned around on the bench as Connor looked up.

"I think I've got something." The sheriff said, giving both Dean and Connor some black-and-white photos. "These traffic cams take an image every three seconds, as part of the Amber Alert program."

Dean stood up as Connor nodded.

"These images are all taken around the time of the disappearances." Kathleen eyed Connor warily and said, like she was trying to be helpful.

Dean flipped through the images but saw nothing supernaturally-out-of-ordinary. "These aren't the ones we're looking for."

"Wait, wait. Look a' this one." Connor held up a hand and shove an image under Dean's nose. It was a picture of a van taken at 1:07:04 am. "This one's taken a coupl'a minutes after Murphy left te bar."

Dean stared at the Irish twin.

"Wha?"

"You've been keeping track of the time?" Dean asked staggeringly. "Man, you've got some complexes."

Connor glared.

Dean chuckled lightly to himself as he returned to the pictures. The next one was an image taken from the back of that thing, with a plate of W5L-174 clearly visible. "Plates like that looked new." He noted. "This car was probably stolen."

"Exactly." Kathleen interrupted. "So...whoever was driving this waste bucket must be involved."

Dean turned and looked at the sheriff in a strange way. Wait...didn't that mean they were...humans?

As if answering his question, a piercing screech sounded from behind.

All three of them turned in union and watched the van go as it slowed, making the sound again.

"Heard that engine?" Dean asked.

"Yep." The sheriff said as Connor nodded his agreement.

"Aye."

"Kindda like a wailing growl, isn't it?" Dean asked, right out of the blue.

"Aye."

"I hate that sound."

Dean deadpanned while the other two looked at him like he was odd.

Which he probably was.

_XXX_

Sam held tight onto the bars above his head, lifted both of his legs above ground and swung, trying with all his might to kick down the door. Once, twice, but it was of little next to no use.

"Told ya." Sitting back, Murphy snickered and took out a cigarette when Sam fell back onto the floor panting. "Ya wan' one?"

"No thanks." Sam refused the offer, looking around desperately as the other man start puffing smoke.

"Where are we?"

"Dunno." Murphy admitted, sniffing in the cool dreggy air. "Country maybe, smells like te country."

"How did you know?"

"I used ta live in te country back in Ireland." Murphy said, playing with the dirt from the floor. "With m'brother an' Ma."

Sam frowned at that. "What about your dad?"

The Irishman looked around at him suddenly with a sophisticated expression like he had just said something inappropriate.

"I...I didn't mean to..." Sam stuttered but Murphy only shook his head.

"Da's been missing fer twenty-five years o' m'life an' just popped up one day less than a year ago." The man said, finishing the cigarette and casting it out of his cage. "Conn's been all good ta take him back 's a family but 'm not too sure."

"Why?"

"He still left us."

"What?"

"He still fuckin' left us." Murphy hissed, throwing a punch at the sturdy cage door which resulted in a renewed wave of disturbance and finally causing the third man to stir and wake up.

"You're alive?" Sam was startled as both he and Murphy looked around. "Hey, you okay?"

"Do I look like I'm okay?" The man wasn't happy with Sam's stupid question, so he decided to change the topic.

"You're Jenkins, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

Sam shook his head and sighed, choosing to ignore Murphy's questioning blue eyes. "Um...I was looking for you."

"Oh yeah?" Jenkins asked and turned to Murphy. "You, too?"

The Irishman shrugged.

"No offence, but this looks a no-go poor rescue."

"Well, my brother's out there right now. And so is his." Sam assured, gesturing at Murphy. "They'll be looking for us, so..."

"So they're not gonna find us." Jenkins said like he couldn't understand why the other two men were so slow. "We're in the middle of nowhere; waiting for them to come back to do God knows what to us."

A pause. Then...

"What are they? You've seen them?" Sam asked.

"What're you talking about?"

"What do they look like?"

Just then a noise sounded, causing Jenkins to duck in fear. "See for yourself."

Murphy tensed as Sam turned toward the only way out of the gloomy building. The door creak opened and revealed two figures in long black cloaks.

Sam peeked through the gaps between the bars as they came in and hit Jenkins' cage with a thick stave, forcing the poor man to back off to the far end of his cage as they unlock the phylum.

"Don't! What're you going to do? Don't touch me!"

Jenkins let out a string of horrified cry. But they didn't do anything apart from leaving out a plate of food on the dusty floor before they left and locked the door again. The moment the door was locked, Jenkins threw himself at the plate and ravished it like he'd been starving for months.

"I'm an idiot." Sam whispered to no one in particular as he stared at the kidnappers taking away the key from the pole in the center of the room. "They're just people."

"Aye." Murphy nodded and sneered. "They're bad people, an' te moment I get outta here, I'll make te fuckin' sure tha' they be dead bad people."

Well, that wasn't a threat you hear everyday. Especially from one in a cage.

"Didn't know you had that in you." Sam said, bewildered. Even if the guy wasn't a hunter, he sure had the potential for one.

"Jus' pissed."

"Right." Sam turned back to the man that was wolfing down his meal. "How often do they feed you anyway?"

"Once a day." Jenkins pointed between mouthfuls. "They always use that thing over there to open the cage."

"So this the only time you see them?"

"Yeah, but I'm waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"Next feeding time, man."

Murphy laughed–like one used to finding amusement in the hardest of times–as Sam let out a breath. "That's the worst of your worries right now?"

"What else do you think they wanted?" Jenkins asked.

Sam didn't answer as he walked across his cage and stretched out to grab a long length of metal rod that's hanging down, just within reach.

"Depends on who te'fuck they think they are." Murphy helped to reply if only with mild interest as Sam finally grabbed the thing he was aiming for.

"A bunch of psychos if you asked me, look around you." Jenkins mentioned like he still couldn't understand why the obvious didn't hit.

The only reaction he got was Murphy lying back and taking out another cigarette while Sam bared his teeth and pulled with both hands, having another go at escape by trying to break off the rod.

* * *

_Thx for reading and staying with me, please R&R._


	5. Belief

_______disclaimer: I don't own SPN__, BDS, or any of their characters._

_______OMG! Finally onto the fifth chapter! Still from the Winchester brother's POV. Contained a little broil._

* * *

**_Hunters Hunted_**

**Belief (From the Winchesters' POV)**

Night had drooped a thick dark curtain over the skies.

"Okay, the next traffic cam is fifty miles from here." Kathleen pointed through the windshield of her car as her two passengers gaze out the windows. "And the pick up didn't pass that way, so..."

"So they mus've slipped off somewhere." Connor finished the sentence for her from the backseat as Dean consulted the map.

"I didn't see any roads here though." Dean noted, holding up the map so the Irish twin could also see.

"Well, a lot of these properties have their own private roads."

"Right."

A beep sounded from a small computer at the front of the car. And Kathleen took a moment to turn away from the road to inspect what showed up on the screen.

"So, Gregory." The sheriff began though neither Connor nor Dean heeded the remark much, only earning herself a casual 'Yeah?' from the man she called.

"I ran your badge number; it's a routine when we're working case with state police for county purposes." She continued and this time successfully catching both men's attention.

Now, Dean was downright panicking but managed to look only slightly startled.

"And um...they just get back to me..." The sheriff pulled over and parked the car by the road so they could have this conversation seriously. "It says here your badge was stolen."

Dean didn't even manage to fake a convincing peradventure.

"And there's a picture of you." Kathleen turns the computer to reveal a heavy-set African American.

"I lost some weight." Dean laughed nervously as Connor looked like he was ready to smirk with glee after he scrutinized the image. "And I got that Michael Jackson skin disease..."

"Sure." Of course Kathleen wasn't amused and she unbuckled the seatbelts. "You guys step outta the car."

"Look, look, look. If you wantta arrest us, that's fine. We'll cooperate I swear." Dean tried and almost begged. "But first, please, let me find Sam."

"An' I gotta find Murph." Connor whispered.

"I don't know who you guys are." Kathleen let out a sigh, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. But I don't even know if this Sam really was missing or whether this Murphy really existed."

"Murphy existed." Connor hissed, suddenly grabbing her shoulder from behind. "He's m'brother an' I'll be fuckin' damned if I dun get 'im back!"

Kathleen frowned and shook his hand off as Dean started to speak again.

"Look at my eyes, and tell me I'm lying about this."

"Identity thefts? You guy are impersonating officers." Kathleen said staring into Dean's eye as though daring him to deny, then turned back and gave Connor a hard look that showed she was now slightly angry. "I won't ask again, so please step outta the car or I'll have to take both of you in."

Connor cursed and literally kicked open the car door as Dean followed out.

"Look where yer shtupid idea get us." He cursed–defeated–as they could do nothing but watch the car drove away.

"You don't seem too keen on refusing yourself."

"So ya're sayin' this is fuckin' m'fault?" Connor's temper was obviously raising fast and he pushed Dean–non too gently–aside. "Murphy's all I've got an' ya've stranded us here in te middle o' a fuckin' road when he could be getting' te fuckin' hurt!"

"You know what?" Dean clenched his fist, trying hard to keep himself from start throwing punches. "You're nothing more than an arrogant son of a bitch that knew nothing–absolutely _nothing_–about losing everything, so shut your pie-hole!"

"Whaddya just say?" Connor assaulted and seized him by the collar like the first night they met.

"When we were young, I pretty much pulled Sam from a fire. And ever since then I felt responsible for him." Dean snarled, recalling the flaming nightmare so long ago that had torn his family apart. "I knew it then that it was _my_ job to keep him safe. But since you have no freaking idea–"

"Fuck ya!" Connor execrated. "Whaddya know abou' responsibility, eh? Ya know wha it's like ta jump off a five-story building fer someone ya care?"

Dean glared and respired heavy, both men practically spitting in each other's faces. Until finally Connor took a deep breath...

And loosen his grip.

"Murphy wouldda throw a punch a' me by now." Was all he said as he turned and strolled away. Into the dead of the night.

_XXX_

Sam yanked on the rod, hard.

"What's your name again?"

"That's Sam." Murphy supplied helpfully, smoking his consecutive cigarettes again as Sam didn't show any sign of wanting to forgo his escape plan anytime soon. "An' I'm Murphy."

"Why don't you give it up, Sam?" Jenkins called out. "There's no way out."

"Don't. Tell me." Sam whizzed. "To. Give..." Suddenly, the rod came loose and something snapped right off. Sam coughed as dust flew everywhere.

"Wha's it?" Murphy asked.

Sam picked the thing up from the cage floor and turned it around in his hand. "It's a bracket."

"Oh, thank God a bracket." Jenkins said sarcastically, waving his hand in a dramatic way. "Now we got them, uh?"

Quite suddenly, Jenkins' cage door swung open a small crack.

Jenkins stared, bewildered at first but still made to go for the door that now leaded to his freedom.

"Maybe ya knocked somethin' loose?" Murphy was unsure, watching the older man survey the surroundings as he opened the door and carefully stepped out onto the hay-covered floor.

"I think you should get back in here, Jenkins." Sam warned.

"What?" The man blinked.

"Ya heard 'im." Murphy agreed, dropping the last of his cigarette. "This isn't right."

"But you sure want to get outta here a few minutes ago."

"Yeah, but that was too easy."

Jenkins shook his head, unconvinced. "I want to get outta here, but I promise I'm gonna sent help okay?" He assured. "Don't worry."

"No, Jenkins, I'm serious." Sam called out with a hint of panic as Murphy, too, made to the edge of his cage.

"It could be a fuckin' trap ya know?"

"Bye." Jenkins waved without turning and walked out the door.

"Jenkins!"

They called out in union but there was nothing they could do as they watched the old barn door softly clicked shut after the man disappear behind and...almost immediately like it was mocking the two men's failed attempt at deliver a simple warning, Jenkins' cage door–that had been wide open moments before–snapped close.

"Damnit!" Sam punched his cage door in irritation as Murphy shook his head.

"Fuckin' idiot." The Irishman said, murmured a quick prayer under his breath and made a cross.

A long suffocating silence followed, leaving the two men in their own thoughts to wonder what was been done to Jenkins then. Both knew they would never see him again.

Sam grew restless after a while and decided to start a conversation, mostly for the sake of diverting his own attention from the disturbing wails that came from somewhere beyond the barn door, wails that sounded remotely like animal cries. "I've never had the chance to ask you." He asked, motioning to the tattoos and the rosary hung around the shorter man's neck as he turned to look at him. "Are you...you know, Catholic?"

"Aye." Was the simple answer. "And ya?"

"I suppose I wasn't."

"Wasn't a believer? Never prayed?"

"I pray, everyday in fact."

"Then why dun believe?"

It was a difficult question.

"Because I know there's something out there. In the dark." Sam said slowly after a lengthy consideration. "Something bad...evil. And if there's a God, well, I just don't understand why He would allow them to...do as they please."

Murphy lay back. "Never think tha' maybe God didn't allow them? Never think tha' maybe God did sen' out His warriors to rid the world of bad things? Ya haven't met them didn't mean they dun exist."

Sam was taken aback by surprise. "God's warrior? Like angels?"

Murphy shrugged.

At that, Sam almost laughed. "Angels don't exist."

"How did ya know?" Murphy asked.

Sam almost answered 'because Dean told me' like the time when he was still little and everything his elder brother said were unchangeable truths. Instead, he just kept his silent.

"Maybe not angels."

"What?"

"I said maybe it wasn't angels tha' God sen' out." Murphy looked at Sam, long and hard.

Again. Sam was taken aback by surprise. Was he talking about hunters? Was it possible that he had met one at some point in his life?

"You sound like you've actually met them." It was just a careless remark but...

"Aye."

Sam almost snapped his neck for turning around too fast. "What? Who are they? Do you know their names?"

Murphy just smiled.

"C'mon, you can tell me." Sam probed–

But he was cut off by a piercing scream that sounded like knives cutting through air. It was Jenkins' scream.

Sam almost clawed the dirt floor as Murphy closed his eyes in pain.

"Still think there are angels?"

Sam didn't really mean to sound so sarcastic. Didn't really.

Murphy opened his eyes at that but didn't look at him. Instead, he stared off into space and–as though for an answer–said in a low voice like it was something from a half-remembered dream. "...when I raise my flashing sword and my hand takes hold on judgment, I will take vengeance upon mine enemies and I will repay those who hate me. O Lord, raise me to Thy right hand and count me among Thy saints..."

"What's that?"

Murphy shook his head and didn't answer, leaving Sam in his thoughts to ponder on it alone.

* * *

_Thx for reading and staying with me, please R&R. I would really appreciate it._


	6. Caught–Part I

_disclaimer: I don't own SPN, BDS, or any of their characters._

_Sixth chapter up, Part I from the MacManus twins' POV. And there's a slight implication of Wincest in this chapter (we have to be fair don't we? *smirk*) but still, you could only see it if you squint really really hard and have a wild and out-of-control imagination._

* * *

_**Hunters Hunted**_

**Caught**-**Part I (From the MacManuses' POV)**

Fifty miles.

Fifty fucking miles.

Connor felt like a total idiot trying to cover such a distance on foot. To make matters worse, it suddenly started to drizzle in the middle of the night and soon it turned into an overall downpour, though the rain stopped within half an hour, it still left both him and Dean drenched and freezing to the bones.

Both of them were too supercilious to ask each other for help so they ended up a few paces apart, walking like a pair of furtive trembling zombies by the side of the road that stretched on forever.

It was dawn before neither of them made a sound, and it was Dean who first broke the silence.

"Hey..."

Deliberately ignoring the call that sounded from not far behind, Connor kept his gait, shivering, but nevertheless walking.

"Hey, Connor!"

Dean picked up his pace and fall into step beside his frigid companion forcing Connor to look up with bleary eyes.

"Wha?"

Dean pointed at somewhere between the dense woods, there a small trail leading off the main road was just about visible in the weak twilight.

Connor frowned. "Think te van went tha way?"

Dean shrugged. "That's the first turn off I've seen so far."

"So ya wanna check it out?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded, walking pass almost too casually. "But you stay here."

"We've been through this." Connor said, grabbing the other man's arm. "And te answer's still no fuckin' way!"

"Look here, I don't want to have a fight with you. But if things get nasty, I wouldn't be able to look after you as well."

"Right back a' ya." Connor shot back, glaring.

They wasted some more minutes at the crossroad–neither wanting to be the one that was going to be left behind–before they got to the conclusion and walk down the trail together. Though both none too willingly.

They rounded a curve through some tall weeds when Connor stepped on something that caught both their attention.

It was a short hunting knife with stains that looked disturbingly like blood.

"Fuck." Connor stooped to pick up the knife and noticed small pieces of flesh and skin littering the forest ground. And dry blood that was spill after the rain. "Fuck!"

"Connor..." Dean made to hold down the other man but was shaken off.

"This better no' be Murphy's or so God help me, 'm goin' to throttle whoever did it!" Connor said venomously, clutching the knife's mental handle hard, wishing–not for the first time–that he had his Baretta with him.

"Okay, look." Dean started again. "If you don't want my help that's fine, we'll just go our separate ways."

"Whaddya have in mind?"

"You go in through the front, me the back. Then everybody's happy."

Since Connor wasn't one to think over a plan–that's Murphy's job–so he agreed almost immediately and nodded a silent farewell as the other man turned to another path.

Then, he went on his own, passing an eerie looking stable that seemed abandoned a long time ago. And soon, spot the van the traffic cam had taken pictures of just outside a newer but equally shabby two stories building. Connor was boiling with rage at the sight but still forced himself to calm down as he walked up to the front porch.

Knocking on the door a few times but there seemed to be no answer, Connor looked around and took in his surroundings. Quite suddenly, the door cracked open from lack of oiling and to his surprise out stepped two children–a young girl in the mid-teens and an even younger boy.

They carefully closed the door behind them, both wearing a look that said they weren't used to strangers dropping by.

Connor made a short wave somehow at a lost of words. He wasn't expecting kids.

"Who are you?" The older of the two children asked, stepping forward–way too close for the Irishman's liking–and stretching out a hand to touch the fabric of Connor's shirt.

"Um...'m Connor." He answered uneasily. "Wha're yer names?"

"Missy." The girl stepped back if only a little, half-turned to the younger kid who could be her brother and said. "And this is Ned."

There was an awkward pause as Connor was trying to be nice, but it only worked to drive the two kids further away. They really seemed to be scared of strangers.

"I was wonderin' if ya see someone." Connor tried another approach. "He looks kindda like me, only with darker hair..."

They looked at him with a puzzled stare. Then abruptly broke into an identical smile that looked wee bit creepy.

"Wha?"

"That's gonna hurt." Missy said, eyes sparkling.

Connor only had a fraction of a second to mull over the statement before he turned around and saw a huge shovel came his way.

"Fuckin' Jesus!" He exclaimed, leaping to the side barely dodging the blow.

Connor thanked the good Lord and all the combat-training he had as kid at that moment as he slashed out with the knife he retrieved only a while ago, successfully leaving a gash onto the man's hand forcing him to abandon the dangerous shovel. But sadly before he could deliver any actual damage, a union cry of 'Grandpa!' rang out and Connor found both of his legs trapped within the tight grasps of the two kids.

"Wha's wrong with ya people!" Connor began but before his could shake them off, an all-too-familiar sound of a gun been loaded echoed from behind.

"...fuck..."

"Drop the knife." It was the voice of a female.

Connor obeyed and it was the first time he seriously considered changing Da's rules of 'No women, no children'.

"Missy sweetheart, take your brother inside."

"Yes, mommy." Missy said, grabbing Ned's hand and...that was the last thing Connor knew before he got a blow to the head.

_XXX_

"How long did ya reckon we've been here?"

Sam shrugged. "Over a day at the very least."

"Fuckin' great." Murphy threw away the last of his cigarette, really irritated. "If they dun starve me ta death, 'm goin' ta be bored ta death anyways."

"You could always–" Sam started but before he could finish, the sudden opening of the barn door. Again. Cut him off.

Murphy–who happened to be leaning to the side–almost jumped at the sound as he turned around, but it wasn't the cloaked figure from before. It was a guy in jeans and leather jacket and drenched from head to foot, a guy that was wearing a facetious manner and was mumbling to himself as he looked to be checking out the place.

Rounded up the corner, the guy noticed the cages that happened to be in the shadows and–totally ignoring Murphy–immediately made to Sam's cage.

"Sam!" The guy called out and Sam let out a sigh of relief as the shorter man walked to the side of his cage. It was suddenly all too clear that this was the 'brother' Sam had been talking about.

Murphy really felt like a third wheel as he listened to the two brothers' exchange of 'Why are you all wet?' and 'Are you hurt?' and 'No, I'm fine' and 'Damn it's good to see you' and a whole string of other things that leaded to nowhere.

But really? They were in fucking cages here!

Murphy coughed. At last catching Sam's attention.

"Oh sorry, Dean, that's Murphy." Sam introduced. "Murphy, this is Dean."

Dean nodded. "Saw you in the bar."

"Aye." Murphy waved it off and moved to the side of the cage. He had more pressing matters in mind. "Hey, have ya–by any chance–seen m'brother?"

"Connor?" The man asked. "I did. He came with me in fact, but he went up through the front."

"'s he alright?"

"Depends on how well he can take care of himself. In the mean time, let's get you guys outta here." Dean said, turning back to walk around Sam's cage and spotted the lock. "Oh, these look like they're going to be a bitch."

"There's some kindda automatic control righ' there." Murphy pointed out through the bars but before Dean went to take a look, he asked his brother another question.

"Have you seen them?"

"Yeah." Sam answered, shaking his head. "Dude, they're just people."

"And they jumped you?" Sam shook his head again as if embarrassed. "Must be gettin' a little rusty there, kiddo."

"Shut up."

"What do they want anyway?" Dean continued on with his questions, though not really paying attention as he was checking out–playing with–the 'automatic control'.

"I don't know. They let Jenkins go, but I think it was some sort of trap." Sam replied through the crisscrossing bars. "It doesn't make any sense to me."

"That's the point. They're different from our usual playmates, there are rules, patterns. With people, they're just crazy."

"Wait, wait! Wha're ya talkin'bout?" Murphy interrupted, not at all like to be ignored and totally don't like the way the two brothers just disappeared into their own little universe merely feet away. "Are ya guys like...from the army or somethin'?"

"Well, not really." Dean chuckled as he finally turned and paid some attention to Murphy's cage, but gave up very soon. "Looks like those bastards have to wait. These things need a key. Key?"

Murphy swapped a quizzing stare with Sam. "We dunno."

"Fine. I better go find it."

"Hey!" Sam called just as his brother turned around. "Be careful."

"Yeah." The elder brother assured and with that, Dean left.

* * *

_I made some changes and added a couple more members into the Bender family or things would be too easy for our boys. In the show there were only two generations but here, there were three. I didn't change Pa Bender's name but he would be a grandpa to Missy and Ned, and father to two sons and a daughter._

_Thx for reading and staying with me, please R&R. I would really appreciate it._


	7. Caught–Part II

_disclaimer: I don't own SPN, BDS, or any of their characters._

_Seventh chapter up, Part II from the Winchester brothers'...no, wait! It was actually from Dean's POV._

* * *

_**Hunters Hunted**_

**Caught**-**Part II (From Dean's POV)**

Dean sneaked into the basement, it was around noon but the basement was dark so he clicked on his flashlight before start looking around. There were jars and bottles that he didn't want to know the contents placed in not-so-orderly rows on a tall cabinet. A pair of dusty glasses hung on the side of an empty jar and strains of hair littered the lower shelves.

A larger tank-like glass contained something that looked disturbingly like brains.

"Yikes." Dean murmured, tapping the tank a few times before getting up and turning away. He then noticed a wired wall that was stuck full of pictures. He walked around it for a closer look and saw an open bag on a nearby desk fill with more photos. He carefully inspected them.

There was one showing a middle-aged man having his head cut off, the two men holding him down were wearing big trophy-winning grins. Another showed the same two men with a different victim at a place that could be the kitchen of an awful horror movie.

Dean shook his head, disgusted.

But then a picture that seemed to be more recently taken caught his eyes. He picked it up and took a closer look. It was Jenkins.

"I'll say it again," Dean muttered to himself. "Demons I get, people are crazy."

He pocketed the picture and made to the stairs that leaded up. It was time to face the family.

_XXX_

Soft music sounded through the hallway. The huge fan that barely clung to the ceiling screeched as it turned.

Dean quietly lurked around the corner but accidently walked into a campanula as he was paying too much attention to the man in the kitchen. The jingling sound almost caused him a heart attack as he steady the swinging pieces, praying that nobody heard and it was then did he realize in mild horror that it was made from human jaw bones.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, Dean proceeded farther, grabbing a long wooden staff with a nail sticking out the end along the way and finally finding the room where the music came from.

He peered around but didn't at all want to know what that man was sawing.

A box of keys in that very room caught his attention then so Dean carefully balanced the wooden staff on the side and walked in, hoping the man whose back was facing him wouldn't turn around.

Damned his luck.

The man turned around to change the saw for a kitchen knife, forcing Dean to retreat behind the wall.

When the man turned his back again, Dean went straight for the keys in the box, trying to find the one that looked like it would fit into the lock he saw earlier. But damned his luck again as he couldn't find it.

And the bottle of teeth beside the box seemed to scream at him that it was time to go.

Dean turned around, mind set on leaving but...to his astonishment, saw a young girl in her mid-teens.

Missy let out a gasp and backed off a step, shocked.

"Shh..." Dean was wary of the man behind him in the kitchen as he tried to assured the young girl. "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you."

What he didn't expect was for the girl to produce a small knife of her own. "I know." She said, smiling, and launch herself at him.

Dean dodged the surprise assault without much effort but the hem of his jacket was pinned to the wall.

"Daddy! Daddy–daddy!" Missy screamed at the top of her voice as Dean pulled himself free.

Just then, a man rushed down the stairs from the second floor. He saw Dean.

"Daddy!" Missy screamed again as Dean tried to make his escape.

Jared Bender also heard the commotion as he rushed from the kitchen and grabbed Dean from behind.

Dean, having no choice, put all of his weight onto the attacking man and kicked Lee Bender with both of his feet right in the chest.

Seeing his brother hurt, Jared slammed Dean into the sharp edge of a pillar then cast him across the sofa into a short desk behind. But before he could do anything else, Dean punched him, hard, forcing him to the floor.

Lee ran at the uninvited guest, hoping to help his brother, but was again thrown off his feet.

Everything was in chaos as both of the men got up, forcing Dean into a corner and start throwing punches.

Dean tried putting up a fight, but he was at a disadvantage as it was two-against-one and only managed to avoid a few blows before he was head butted and, almost losing his balance, forcibly back to the doorway.

"I'm going to kick your ass first." Dean said, slightly swaying on his feet as he pointed at Jared when there was a break in the fight. "And then yours." He turned to look at Lee, trying to buy some time to form a plan with words...

But he didn't notice Pa Bender approach from behind, and before he knew it, Dean got a smack to the head.

* * *

_Sorry, I know this one's just like the show since neither MacManuses showed up, but I promise the next chapter would be more interesting!_

_Anyway, thx for reading and staying with me, please R&R. I really, really wanted to know what you think._


	8. Chained

_disclaimer: I don't own SPN, BDS, or any of their characters._

_Chapter...was it eight? I'm losing track from lack of sleep, and it's from Connor's POV._

* * *

_**Hunters Hunted**_

**Chained (From Connor's POV)**

Connor's head was pounding like someone was hammering a fucking mallet against his temple. He groaned, remembering the blow he literally received a while or an age ago, and tried moving. But found he couldn't as he was secured on a rickety wooden chair with his wrists bound tightly–and by the feel of it, in fucking chains–behind his back.

Someone moaned when he tried tugging the chains in his pointless attempt to free himself.

That was Dean.

"Looks like you didn't have much luck, either."

"Fuckin' shut up."

And fuck they were chained back-to-back on two chairs.

"They're awake, mommy." The girl from before–Missy–leaned out the doorway and called, and soon, a family of six poured into the room surrounding them.

"Shame we don't have enough cages to lock the both of them." Lee said, smiling in a sickening way while he walked around them. Looking, no, inspecting. "They're good fighters."

"They should be a fun to hunt." Jared assented, nodding to his father. Pa Bender whizzed at the comment, but it could be the sound of his twisted laughter that's stuck half-way out of his throat.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me. That's what this is about." Dean muttered, like he just get the inside joke that everyone but Connor shared, so the blond Irishman tilted his head a bit and strained his ears to listen. "You...you guys hunt people?"

"Hunt...people?" Connor asked from behind, sickened. "Who te fuck hunt people?"

"That's strange coming out of your mouth, handsome." Malva Bender–the woman who was previously responsible for Connor's unconsciousness–said, pulling up a reddish round chair and seated before poking him on the cheek with her long nails. "Since...oh, I can see it in your eyes...you yourself have killed before."

Connor grimaced and fell silent as he didn't have anything to say to that. And he felt his chained partner fidgeted uneasily as Pa Bender started a conversation of his own with Dean and asked him, too, whether he had hunted before.

"That depends on what you mean."

Connor felt a cold shiver down his back when he heard how alike Dean's response–or rather, how alike his lack of a negative answer–was to his. He then remembered how reluctant the man was when they were back at the sheriff's and how the report said he was suspected of murder and was supposed to be dead. And as he started to think that maybe he'd been lied to all alone, he suddenly realized that the real reason for Dean to fidget with unease might not be because of the older man's words but because Dean, too, noticed Connor's absence of them.

"I hunt all my life. Just like my father, and his before him. I hunt deer and bears; I even got a cougar once. But the best hunt...is human." Pa Bender's voice rang on the background as Malva looked at Connor joyfully.

"You're just like us."

Connor spitted in her face which earned him a strike to the head. That woman–but what he really wanted to think was bitch–could hit.

"I'm nothin' like ya." He hissed and Malva laughed.

"Oh really?" She teased as Pa ranted on how 'alive and powerful' he felt when he saw the fear in his preys' eyes as they went dark. "Then tell me, what _do_ you hunt?"

"I hunt people who put me in fuckin' chains." Connor joked–and it also happened to be literally true as the last two people who dared the feat were by now six feet under–but winced as pain flared in his head.

"You're a sick puppy."

Dean's comment caused Connor to wince–again–but this time in astonishment, but then he realized the man wasn't talking about him.

"We give them weapon, give them a fight chance."

But not everyone deserved a chance. Connor thought to himself.

"It's like our tradition, passed from mother to daughter, father to son." Malva smiled at those words and held Missy close as Connor saw Jared ran a hand through Ned's disorderly hair out of the corner of his eyes.

"Of course only two or three a year, never enough to bring the law down to us." Pa Bender continued. "We're careful, see."

"Well, don't be so sure." Dean panted in pain. "Looks like you're getting sloppy."

"Tell me," The oldest of the Benders pointedly ignored the comment. "Are neither of you a cop?"

"If I tell you, you promise not to beat me into an ashtray?"

Connor felt his chair tremble as Dean earned his own punch in the face from Lee for his smart mouth and could almost hear Jared's smirk from the other side.

"The only reason I don't let my boys take you right here and now is there's somethin' I need to know."

"How 'bout it's not nice to marry your sister?"

The advice sounded actually kind of funny but sadly Pa Bender couldn't take a joke as he took a tongs from the hearth. "Will there be any other cops come looking?"

"Eat me...nonono, wait, wait, wait." Dean began but changed his mind mid-sentence. "You actually might!"

Connor couldn't help himself, he snickered. Which turned out to be a mistake since he immediately felt the violent tug as the insulted Jared jerked him hard by the hair.

"You think this is funny?" The huntsman sneered in warning. "You brought this down to my family."

"That's enough, Jared." Pa Bender cut him off. "If they wanna play games, we'll play some games." He said, and Connor could almost felt the old man's glare searing through the back of his head. "Looks like we'll going to have a hunt tonight after all, everybody. And you..." A short paused, and Connor imagined the furious stare now directed at Dean. "...get to pick the animal."

"Wait! Wha?" Connor tried turning around and was responded with a 'Aww!' as they accidently bumped heads.

"The tall one or the tattooed one?"

Both Connor and Dean started talking then as both of their brothers were threatened. And words of 'Fuck it! It's jus' us!' and 'Wait, wait, wait! Look, nobody's going for us alright!' and 'It's jus' fuckin' us, damnit!' and 'We're alone in this, really!' tangled in an undistinguishable mess.

"If you don't choose, I will." Pa Bender said in a low voice, shutting them both up by burning Dean with the scorching tongs and leaving a nasty charred mark on the left shoulder of his brown overcoat.

"You son of a _bitch_!" Dean grunted in agony.

But that's not enough and to Connor's horror, Pa Bender then said, "This time, I'll take an eye."

"Alright, alright!" Dean shouted. And Connor could feel his partner's fear vibrate through the chains that connected them together as he closed his eyes, waiting to hear the choice that might doom his twin.

But...

"The tall one, the tall one! Take the tall one!"

Connor opened his eyes in shock. What kind of man was he to willingly sacrifice his _own_ brother for someone he barely knew? Was he really bad as he suspected mere minutes ago?

"Lee, go do it." And Connor heard the jingling of keys as Pa took them off from the place around his neck and handed it over. "Don't let him out, though. Shoot him in the cage."

"What?" Dean exclaimed at the sound of door opening. "Thought you said you're going to hunt, to give him a chance!"

"Lee." Pa called again and–like punishing Connor for Dean daring to speak without permission–said, "When you done with the boy, shoot the Catholic, too."

And Connor's blood ran cold.

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_I hope I didn't do too terrible a job what with two different conversations going at the same time._

_Thx for reading and staying with me, please R&R. I would really appreciate it._


	9. Preys

_disclaimer: I don't own SPN, BDS, or any of their characters._

_Sorry about the delayed-update but I got kind of stuck deciding which brothers' POV should I use since it's the final chapter. This is my solution and it'll be a bit different from the previous chapters cuze I switched POVs every section._

* * *

_**Hunters Hunted**_

**Who were the Preys**

**(Murphy's POV)**

The barn door opened and Murphy thought Dean had returned with the key. But when he turned around to peek through the eyelets, he knew he shouldn't get his hopes up as he saw it was a somber man in dusty vest, awful-taste hat, and sinister looking rifle walking in.

"What're you doing?" Sam backed as Lee took out the key they needed and unlock his cage door before walking his way.

That couldn't be good but Murphy had got a total of no plan on how to help his friend as he, still, was behind bars. But then he noticed Sam hiding the bracket that'd been knocked lose earlier, and he got a plan–that's completely stupid and based on instinct.

"Ya sick fuck, look behind ya!" Murphy shouted as the man opened Sam's cage door and–to his absolute astonishment at how stupid the guy was–the distraction worked, giving Sam the instant he needed to strike.

_XXX_

**(Connor's POV)**

They heard the gunfire.

And Connor silently cursed as he felt the body behind him grew rigid.

"If you hurt my brother I'll kill you I swear!" Connor thought something about Dean's rational intellect must've broke then for the tone was laced with menace and venom. But he wouldn't be one to judge–the first shot meant Sam, not Murphy. "I'll kill you all. I'll kill you all!"

Connor couldn't believe how short-sighted Jared was as the big man only smirked at the threat–like he wouldn't recognize danger even if he tripped over it–but Pa Bender, who seemed to have way more experience hunting predatory preys, caught the hint and instantly grew wary.

"Lee!" The old man called, finally getting up from the couch where he sat, an arm holding Ned's small shoulder. "Lee!"

And Connor took the chance to whisper so that only his chained partner would hear. "Dean, listen ta me."

_XXX_

**(Murphy's POV)**

Murphy was laughing and cheering as he watched Sam throw assaults at Lee's face. The first, fist over jaw. The second, barrel to cheek. The third, stock to the back of the head. And...knock out!

It was a shame Sam handled the rifle too hard it jammed.

"Ya're fuckin' good." Murphy commented as he was freed from his own cage.

"Thanks, but it won't be for long before others come looking."

Murphy nodded. It was time for some fun and payback.

_XXX_

**(Dean's POV)**

After the second call and still no answer, Pa Bender got worried. "Jared, Malva, come with me."

The two nodded and armed their own weapons as Ned loaded his small handgun–who the hell gave kids guns! Dean thought, but that was before his own father crossed his mind–and peeped up. "Can I go too, grandpa?"

Pa Bender agreed after a short consideration and, before he left with the other two adults, addressed the second-to-youngest Bender. "And Missy, you watch them now."

And they were gone.

"Dean, listen ta me." Dean heard the whisper just as Missy took out her small knife and slowly approached him. "Put yer feet on te chair."

"What?"

"Trust me."

Dean obliged as the knife came dangerously close to his eyes...and regretted immediately after as Connor suddenly jumped and tipped his chair back with so much force that–since Dean's feet were no longer on the ground and the only thing between steady and losing balance completely was the remaining two rickety front legs of Dean's chair–it was no wonder the both of them were sent falling, forward for Dean and backward for Connor.

And unfortunately for Dean as he was awkwardly shoved_ right into the pointy end_ and for Missy as a man twice her weight crashed right into her.

There was an alarming shriek from the child before Dean got over the fact that he was only nicked across the forehead and elbowed her hard enough to knock her out.

And much to Dean's dismay, Connor didn't stop there and–man, that guy could really move like a cat!–did a back flip right over him, temporarily pinning him against Missy's small body and abused her unconscious form further with the weight of two grown men pressing down on her, and almost dislocating his wrists and shoulders along the way as they were _still_ chained together, before landing in front of him.

"Holy Christ!"

"And Holy Mary full o' grace." Connor echoed with a merry smile, pulling him up as they now were chained front-to-front.

But then they heard footsteps coming their way.

And Dean pulled Connor behind the door just in time as Pa Bender came through the door.

"Missy!" The old man exclaimed after seeing his granddaughter's still body on the ground and crouched to check the pulse.

The man never had the time to react as Dean and Connor moved as one and rammed their fists into the back of his head. And before he knew it, his rifle was kicked away by Dean–

And a length of chain was pestered around Pa Bender's neck.

"Connor! What're you doing?" Dean demanded as his chained partner made no move to remove the metal cord even after the oldest Bender started to show signs of losing conscious. "You're suffocating the old dude!"

"Unless ya would kindly hand me te rifle, o' course I'm suffocatin' him." There was this calm twinkle in Connor's eyes that Dean just couldn't think of as normal.

"You can't be serious! You really gonna kill...?"

"And shepherds we shall be..." Connor just ignored him and began a prayer.

_XXX_

**(Sam's POV)**

"Lee! Where are you! Lee!" Jared called out, rifle held ready as he checked around the barn and he noticed the motionless form of his brother slumped inside the cage. "Damnit! Ned, get the lights."

The youngest Bender did as he was told and pulled down the switch that's taller than him, but the light refused to flare.

"They must've pulled the fuse." Malva said as she checked for the key, which–as expected–was missing.

Sam stealthily moved from beside the wooden ladder to hide behind a large bundle of hay to better see by as Jared unintentionally went his way while the younger lady and the child went in Murphy's direction. And he quietly ducked when the man ascended the ladder.

There was a soft clicking sound and Sam saw Murphy opening a closet–and accidentally informing his whereabouts–out of the corner of his eyes.

Malva was there in a flash, but Sam shook his head as he knew she was only wasting her bullets and at the same time providing Murphy with the noises he needed to snuck up on his prey. She went down pretty fast as the Irishman mercilessly bashed his fist right across the back of her head.

"I never know how ta get alone with te opposite sex." Murphy commented, flexing his fingers. But before he could get his hands on the fallen weapon, gunshot sounded, forcing him to run and take cover.

And Sam realized just in time that he was also been aimed at as he made to run across the dirty floor and did a somersault as he felt a bullet came uncomfortably close.

Murphy fell when Malva grabbed his feet from her place on the ground and he saw Ned holding a handgun to his head as he looked up. "I've got him, mommy."

"Hey!" Sam shouted–this time being the one providing the distraction–and ducked as Murphy lashed out, twisting the little boy's whole arm around that there were sounds of splintered bones and using a surprisingly short time to aim before pulling the trigger–

And hit Sam's pursuer squarely in the chest.

There was a bit of confusion as Malva shouted in fury and leaped at Murphy from behind, but Sam was there and, collimating a hit with the stock of her own dropped rifle, pried her off. Thankfully, Ned wasn't a problem then as he was too busy hugging his sprained arm and crying in pain.

Panting, Sam held up a hand and pulled Murphy up from where he'd fallen.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Sam said, turning to drag the now-unconscious woman into the cage to join her brother and whining son. But he hadn't expected Murphy to grab his shoulder and stop him from locking the door.

"What is it?" Sam questioned and to his utter disbelief–

Twice. The handgun sounded. And two new bullets holes appeared on Lee Bender's chest.

"What...what did you do that for?" Sam rounded on Murphy after the cage was safely shut and locked, more for the protection of its two occupants than the two wardens.

Murphy gave a puzzled look as he chucked the now-empty gun away and picked up a rifle by his feet. "I wasn't jokin' when I said 'bout te bad people."

"You can't go around killing like that." Sam tried to reason. "Give me the gun."

Murphy only shook his head and walked up to the struggling form of Jared, taking aim. "And shepherds we shall be..."

_XXX_

**(Connor's POV)**

"In nomine Patri, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."

And Connor released his hold and let the lifeless body drop at his feet as he heard an echoed gunfire sounding from outside.

Somehow he just knew that Murphy had begun their prayer with him as they always seemed to be synchronous.

"You are seriously disturbed." Dean noted, wearing an incredulous look as he yanked him along. "I could get this thing off if you could find me a pin or something."

Connor nodded. And they were both rubbing their bruised wrists when they met up with Sam and Murphy outside in the yard.

Of course Murphy made fun of him as he'd been done in again by a girl. But Connor himself was laughing because it's good to have his twin back at his side.

"So..."

Both Connor and Murphy turned as the younger of the Winchester brothers speak up from behind.

"I just informed our lovely sheriff back in town." Dean continued, winking at Connor. "And she said the state police and the FBI are going to be here within the hour. They would want to talk to you."

"Hey!" Murphy cut in. "Wha'bout you guys? No way are we stayin' here!"

"An' our things're still in yer car." Connor remembered.

"Then..." Sam and Dean shared a pained look that just screamed brothers. "Looks like we should start walking."

And Connor and Murphy laughed. Synchronously.

_**~~fin~~**_

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_Hope you enjoy it._

_T__hx to all for reading and staying with me for so long. And I would really appreciate it if you could kindly leave your review for it's the best feedback we writers could possibly receive for writing the stories._


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